RAHWAY-The operator of a sex club that has been ordered to close is taking aim at Mayor James Kennedy, whose re-election on Nov. 7 is being contested by former Republican Councilman Lawrence Bodine.

In a statement posted on the website “www.couples4u.com” the sex club blasts politicians who, “take control of all of our fundamental freedoms and sit in moral judgment on us as if they know better than we as to how we should choose to lead our lives.”

Although the missive does not mention Kennedy by name, the site does include an article from the Star Ledger concerning the mayor under the headline: “This Is Why We Are Having The Problems We Are.”

Earlier this year, city officials obtained a warrant to execute a search on the sex club, during which they found numerous unclothed people engaged in various acts on all three floors of the Main Street establishment.

A total of 39 summonses were filed for violations of health and zoning laws, but those charges were dismissed in a settlement that called for the sex club to vacate the city by Dec. 1.

There was a Meet-And-Greet party on Friday, Oct. 13, specifically billed as “This is a ‘Social Event’ only, held in the main room and not a normal club opening”

Leaving or not, the club operator had some stern words for city officials and praise for supporters.

“Enough is enough already!,” the statement said. “To those 248 residents of town whom have been either long time patrons of the club, are on our mailing list, or just neighbors that know us for who we really are, use your votes to make a difference.”

The sex club, known as both Beginnings2 or Tokar Services, maintains the website at couples4u.com and provided private parties catering to the alternative lifestyle called swinging, or the practice of having sex with other couples.

Swinging couples sometimes swap sex partners or may engage in group sex involving bi-sexual acts.

Since taking over as mayor nearly 16 years ago, Kennedy has had a streak of successes in ridding the city of what he termed, “sexual exploitation,” including prostitution and other vice crimes, nude dancing and sex clubs.

During his first term he ordered a series of raids that closed three massage parlors that harbored prostitutes. He was later able to close the juice bar off Routes 1&9, Razzle Dazzle, which featured nude dancing and promoted prostitution.

Kennedy’s administration also closed a number of bars that served as havens for drug dealers, including the Rahway Inn on St. George’s Avenue and the Triangle Bar on Monroe Street.

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There’s a pretty big sex club hidden in a hangar-like space somewhere around the border of Red Hook and Carroll Gardens, where every weekend swingers and single fornicators come together for a little coitus, voyeurism, and baked ziti. Times reporter Alan Feuer has a detailed profile on the place, which charges $40 for couples, $90 for single men, and admits unescorted women-who are sex-club gold-free of charge.

During his time at the nameless club, which he says is located somewhere between a cement plant and the Gowanus Expressway, Feuer observes the usual out-of-shape, middle-age group sex action you’d expect, plus a girl-on-girl show between two young women who mauled each other with the energy of terriers mating.

The club’s proprietor, one Mistress Wanda, tells him, Everybody comes here: cops, postmen, bus drivers. I went to a funeral last month and recognized a pallbearer. For added flavor, the article comes with one of those 360 panorama photo spreads, depicting a carpet as sad as you’d expect.

UPDATE: Naturally, our readers know the place: It’s called Casbar, and it’s further south than we suspected, in Sunset Park

This Sex Club News Article Was Reported Here >

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The pleasure grottoes at Brooklyn’s newest sex club tend to fill up only after midnight, when the hedonists on the dance floor have loosened their libidos with some disco, doused their inhibitions with a drink. This disputes the old saw that swingers are insatiable and will perform at any moment with any living creature that can count to 10 or blink.

They may be New York City’s most disparate individuals, as their ranks can range from squeaky corporate bankers to hairy-chested buzzards to Spandex matrons from the suburbs. At a recent Valentine’s Day party, a couple in their 60s went at it nonchalantly near buffet trays of ziti. A fat man eating cheesecake sat and watched.

Mistress Wanda, who runs the place, is inured to such behavior and smiles when asked about the outré actions of the ordinary crowd.

Everybody comes here: cops, postmen, bus drivers, she said. I went to a funeral last month and recognized a pallbearer. Everyone’s a swinger.

Her club – whose name has been withheld at her request – sits like a fine-cut jewel in rough surroundings, wedged between the Gowanus Expressway and a cement plant. The place is bring-your-own, in the expansive sense of the term (both drink and date). The erotica on the walls is hazy and romantic and reminiscent of the photographs in frame stores. The club is open only on the weekends, and the cover charge will not break the bank: $40 for couples, $90 for single men. Unescorted women, who are sex-club gold, are allowed in free.

The space itself, which is not unlike a hangar, is partitioned at the middle by a low-slung plaster wall. There, on the right, is the nightclub: liquor service, buffet table, portable parquet dance floor. Here, on the left, the private rooms, the voyeur rooms, the group room and the hardware: a spanking bench and a cross.

It’s a nice place, Wanda said, because it’s safe, and there are always people watching. She is a small, round woman with a warmly sensual manner and, much like her clients, the unassuming features of your fellow passenger on the bus.

Her clients are mostly marrieds in their 40s who have gradually watched their sex lives slowing down and are looking for the spicy weekend safety that a sex club can provide. They come here for the cleanliness and for the ambience of innocent eroticism. For the homey touches, too: Handi Wipes in each private chamber; laundered sheets; condoms on the house.

Bob the Massage Guy gets the evenings started. On this night, a dark-haired girl with nipple rings was first upon his table, and she quickly drew a crowd. The swingers watched her as she lay back writhing like a piece of burning paper. Pornography played on a television set beside the table. Good times, somebody allowed.

When the girl-on-girl show was announced, they shuffled en masse toward the dance floor as though the club were a museum and they themselves were tourists in a herd. Two young specimens arrived and took their clothes off. They mauled each other with the energy of terriers mating. It was dangerous work.

By 1 a.m., the adventurers had gathered where the dark-haired girl was strung up on the cross.

How’s your mother? a balding swinger asked his date. She looked at the pale pink body on the apparatus. Fine. I’ll take a drink.

This Sex Club News Article Was Reported Here >

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